


The Babysitter

by demalore



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Gen, not really death glare but peepers is still rly gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demalore/pseuds/demalore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When your most hated enemy shows up on your doorstep, what's a commander to do?</p>
<p>(a rewrite of sorts of "The Prisoner")</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Babysitter

The dark red glow of the Skullship’s interior always felt dark and dreary, but without the frequent blasts of electric green light, it seemed even darker and drearier.  Even with hundreds of watchdogs milling about through the lower levels, the ship felt silent.  Everyday chatter was nothing compared to Lord Hater’s sporadic outbursts, which, although they were commonplace at this point, still sent the ship into chaos.  With Lord Hater out for the day, everyone on the ship still found themselves tensing up at random times, expecting Lord Hater’s voice to come roaring through the ship at any moment.

Commander Peepers felt this silence most acutely, not only because his room was in the upper levels away from the other Watchdogs, but also because he seemed to bear the brunt of Lord Hater’s tantrums.  He didn’t mind the absence of lightning tearing through his nervous system, but the calm was starting to get to him.  He couldn’t even invade a planet on his own, much less take on Dominator, so his only apparent option was to stay in his minimalist bedroom, mulling over plans to take down the lady villain.

The knock on his door was a surprise, but Peepers knew it wasn’t Hater; he never knocked.  He almost hoped it was a watchdog, since they wouldn’t dare bother him unless there was some kind of emergency, and a crisis to solve was just the thing Peepers needed.

“Hiya, Mister Peepers!” Wander waved at him as he opened the door.

Peepers stared up at the furry orange freak, too stunned to do anything more than blink.  “Hi,” he said shortly.  When he wasn’t immediately hit in the retina with a blue fist, he looked down both sides of the hallway for the Zbornak that followed Wander around.

“I’m _so_ sorry to bother you,” Wander went on with an exaggerated swing of his head, “but I can’t seem to find Lord Hater!  It’s our buddy-versary today and I need to give him this card!”

Peepers blinked at the glitter-saturated paper that Wander presented to him.  A red blob surrounded by green spikes, which he could only assume was a crude representation of Lord Hater, was holding hands with a smiling orange squiggle.  He squinted to make out the words “For Lord Hater, the greatest buddy in the galaxy!” written across the top.

“Lord Hater’s out today, try back tomorrow,” Peepers said with a sigh.  He was already mentally rescheduling all of tomorrow’s events, since once Wander came into the picture, Lord Hater would be occupied for the rest of the day.

Wander’s smiled bunched into a disappointed pout.  “Aw, fragmuffins!  And I had a whole day planned for us and everything!”

Wander gasped, his smile returning to cover his face.  “Say, _we_ could-”

Peepers’ door hissed shut, leaving the commander in silence once again.  This was one crisis he didn’t feel like dealing with at the moment.  If he had to deal with Wander’s shenanigans tomorrow, the least he could do was have a day off today.

 

After a few minutes spent unsuccessfully trying to figure out what to do on a day off, Peepers abandoned the sanctity of his bedroom for a stroll around the ship.  Checking on the watchdogs wasn’t relaxing, but it would keep his mind off of Wander’s inevitable visit tomorrow.  The watchdogs weren’t good for much, but Peepers could at least rest easy knowing that they wouldn’t try giving him hugs or playing him a song.  Most just stared silently at him as he went by, stopping whatever they were doing to give a salute.  Peepers stood up a little straighter, feeling more cheery already.

The sound of murmured conversation grew stronger as Peepers reached the food court, where many of the watchdogs had decided to spend their unexpected free time.  Awkward silence spread slowly across the tables as Peepers marched through, drawing the attention of the watchdogs like a magnet.

Once he reached the center of the room, only one voice remained: Andy’s, blaring from a flat screen TV Hater had installed on the far wall.  The channel was always set to “The Eye on the Skullship”, which had been running nonstop ever since Peepers had assigned Andy and Bean as the "Lord Hater Official Watchdog Entertainment Crew", which was just a drawn-out way of saying "riot insurance".  No matter what degree of insanity Lord Hater put his troops through, they could bear it so long as Andy was there to comment on it.

“-to Eye on the Skullship, where we have a very special, _very_ unexpected guest!” Andy’s chipper voice blared from the television.  As soon as Peepers turned to the screen, he ceased his march, staring at the familiar orange face smiling at him from the TV across the room.

“Thanks for having me on your show, Andy!” Wander replied, waving erratically at the camera.  “I’m just pleased as a Premulon to be here!”

Looking sideways at Andy, Wander raised his hand to hide his mouth.  “Are you sure Mister Peepers won’t mind?” he whispered, the amplified sound broadcast loud and clear to whatever organs Peepers used to hear.

“Oh, don’t worry about the commander!” Andy assured, “he never watches this show anyway!”

The entire food court watched as Peepers turned sharply toward the east wing of the Skullship, where a broom closet had been redesignated as Andy’s TV Station.  Peepers appeared on the television screen moments later, kicking down the studio door.

“Andy! How dare you fraternize with the enemy!” Peepers yelled, snatching Andy and Wander by their necks.

“Gck, sorry Commander Peepers, he just barged in here!” Andy explained desperately, kicking his legs and struggling against Peepers’ unrelenting grip.

Peepers threw Andy toward the camera, sending him and Bean to the floor.  The lens of Bean’s camera cracked as it struck the ground, but the camera continued filming Peepers as he dragged Wander out of the studio.

“Th-that wraps up today’s surprise interview, folks!” Andy recovered quickly, helping Bean to his feet and handing him the broken camera.  “Next up on ‘Eye on the Skullship’, 101 things to store in your holster besides your blaster!”

 

“Well, Mister Peepers, now that you’re not busy sitting in your room, why don’t we-”

“No!” Peepers barked, swinging Wander from side to side as he marched him back to the food court.  “Look, Lord Hater won’t be back until tonight, so just come back then if you have to.”

“Well, I _would,_ ” Wander explained, oblivious to the fact that he was being dragged like a sack of potatoes, “but Syl’s at the library looking for some map to ultimate power, and she said I should spend the day here!”

Peepers rolled his eye.  He couldn’t blame the Zbornak, but he loathed the idea that she had assigned him the role of babysitter without him knowing about it.

“I guess you can’t do _too_ much damage if Lord Hater isn’t here,” Peepers thought out loud.  “The watchdogs can entertain you.  They never do anything important, anyway.”

Peepers flung Wander into the food court and brushed off his gloves with satisfaction.  “There! Just stay here and everything will be fine.”

As the commander turned around to continue his patrol of the Skullship, Wander immediately began greeting every watchdog he could see.  Once Peepers was out of sight, the watchdogs bubbled around Wander.  Things were always a bit more interesting with him around.

“Say, this place doesn’t seem fit for a buddy-versary,” Wander remarked, looking with distaste at the undecorated walls and tables.  “I don’t suppose any of you would mind helping me fix up the place, would you?”

Of course, none of the watchdogs minded.

 

Peepers took a few deep breaths, doing his best to purge the banjo-toting menace from his mind.  The silent, familiar halls of the Skullship were soothing, each watchdog he passed a reminder of his great importance.

However, Peepers found himself passing fewer and fewer watchdogs as he walked.  The Skullship was big, but it was usually brimming with watchdogs.  They wouldn’t be in their bunks this early in the day, and there was no reason for them to be in any of the conference rooms.  Peepers even checked all six of the smooching rooms, but not a single watchdog was anywhere to be found.

“Where could they be?” Peepers muttered to himself.  “Grop knows they can’t be invading a planet without--”

Peepers jumped at the sudden blare of music coming from the center of the ship.  Blaster in hand, he ran toward the source, finding that he was heading straight back to the food court.

The spacious room was packed to the walls with watchdogs.  Many had to overflow into the surrounding hallways, while others were piled on top of tables.  Andy was elbowing his way through the squirming mass of watchdogs, with Bean struggling to follow him with the camera.  It seemed pointless to film the event, anyway, since every single watchdog was already there.

At the center of it all was Wander, hurling commands in such a way that even Peepers felt a bit jealous.  Although the food court seemed to have fallen into a state of mass confusion, Peepers found that he could barely recognize the place.  The sleek red stripes around the walls had been painted over with cheery oranges and pinks.  Streamers hung from every nook and cranny, and twinkling lights looped around the ceiling.  To Peepers’ amazement, they had even managed to hang a chandelier.

“That’s it, fellas!” Wander hollered as the finishing touches were completed.  “Hatey’s gonna be so surprised!”  He and a few watchdogs who had been given instruments played an upbeat tune, struggling to be heard over the crowd.

With a few carefully-aimed blasts, Peepers shot down the decorations.  Debris fell onto the watchdogs below, sending them into a panic.  Chairs were flipped and tables overturned as the startled watchdogs rampaged from the food court, arms raised to shield themselves from Peepers’ fury.

In moments, the only ones remaining in the food court were Peepers, blaster still raised, and Wander, head cocked to one side.

“Too much?” Wander asked, glancing around at the ruined party decorations.  Bits of ceiling sprinkled onto his hat’s brim, and the chandelier smashed to the ground just inches behind him, sending countless shards of broken glass skittering across the floor.

Peepers took a slow step back, drinking in the sight of the desecrated food court.  He should’ve known better than to leave Wander alone with those incompetent soldiers.

“You’re right, Mister Peepers,” Wander answered the silent commander, “Hater wouldn’t care for such a big howdy-doo.”

In a blink of Peepers’ eye, Wander was standing right in front of him, face nearly pressed into his own.

“So why don’t _yoooooou_ ,” Wander said, one finger pressing onto Peepers’ chest, “show me what Hater _would_ like!”

Peepers shoved Wander off of him, but grabbed onto his hand before he could slip away again.  Like it or not, Peepers would have to keep his eye on this goofball for now.

 

“Wow, never seen _this_ room before!”

“Don’t remind me,” Peepers grumbled, closing the torture room door behind him.  He hadn’t been seeing much of his favorite chamber either, thanks to the antics of the moron standing next to him.  The lava pit and torture devices had been gathering dust for a while, but just seeing them made Peepers feel at ease.  Fond memories of the enemies he and Lord Hater had destroyed here nearly made him tear up.

“And you say this is one of Hater’s favorite places?” Wander asked, looking with awe at the many rows of hideous weapons, some even bigger than he was.

“Oh, we used to use it _all_ the time!” Peepers said with relish, pulling fondly at one of the straps on the stretching board.  Screams of victims past echoed through his memories, and Peepers found himself giggling uncontrollably.

“Must be pretty fun then!” Wander grinned, returning to Peepers to see what in Grop’s name was so funny.  He inspected the stretching board, but it didn’t seem very funny to him, so he moved on to the enormous lever on the far wall.

Peepers caught Wander before he was able to pull the lever.  “Oh, no you don’t!” he shouted, pulling Wander away from the tantalizing device.  “You turn on the lava pit and _somehow_ I’m going to fall into it!”

Slipping out of Peepers’ grip, Wander sprung back to the lever and gave it a pull.  A siren blared, and the lava pit opened, the warming magma bubbling and spitting angrily.

“Aw, but don’t you want to try and push _me_ in the lava pit?” Wander smirked, waggling his eyebrows.  He broke out into a run along the rim, narrowly dodging stray globs of lava.  “You gotta catch me first!”

Peepers stared at Wander, his heart pounding.  This was a perfect opportunity, one he had waited for for longer than he could remember.  If he could just get close enough…

Peepers pulled the lever down, and the lava pit cooled back into a boring black hunk of rock.  Wander stopped running, allowing Peepers to take hold of him and remove him from the torture room.  This visit had been a bad idea from the beginning.

“It’s not worth it, Peepers,” he muttered under his breath, “it’s just not worth it.”

 

It was the strangest feeling, having his greatest, most _annoying_ enemy in his grasp and marching through his own flarping ship, but being absolutely powerless to destroy him.  Peepers felt lucky to have escaped the torture room without a scratch, but every door they passed held another danger.

“Look, it’s Captain Tim’s room!” Wander pointed at the door ahead of them, which bore a picture of the hated ‘pet’.  “Mister Peepers, could we _please_ stop in for a quick--”

Peepers yanked Wander’s arm forward, ending his plea, and continued on past Captain Tim’s room without another look.  There was no way he’d even consider opening that door, not for all the planets in the galaxy.

“Hey, it’s the watchdog training room!” Wander exclaimed with the same enthusiasm as before.  “I bet I’d get pretty hurt if we went in there! Why don’t we--”

Peepers cut Wander off again, ignoring the training room as they passed it.  When Wander was around, the watchdogs were as dangerously optimistic as Wander himself.

Wander gave up trying to pull Peepers into any of the rooms.  He just couldn’t believe that with so many fun and interesting rooms in the Skullship, Peepers didn’t want to go in _any_ of them.  What was the point in having an awesome ship if you didn’t enjoy it?

“Well, if you don’t wanna go in any of _these_ rooms, how ‘bout we go to _your_ room, Mister Peepers?” Wander offered.

Peepers looked curiously at Wander.  “ _My_ room?”  There wasn’t much in it, and certainly nothing dangerous.  Really, it wasn’t anything more than a bed and a closet.  Even Wander couldn’t mess that up.

“Fine,” Peepers sighed.  “If that’s what it takes to shut you up.”

Upon reaching Peepers’ bedroom, Wander stepped in to inspect it.  He hadn’t been expecting much, certainly nothing as extravagant as Hater’s bedroom, but this was depressing, even for Peepers.  The bed had been made meticulously, and every uniform in the closet was spotless, leaving no sign of life.  The only thing that could count as a decoration was the looming poster of Lord Hater’s frowning face right above the bed.

Wander shook his head, searching every corner of the room for some sign of comfort, but there wasn’t so much as a dust bunny.  “Mister Peepers, I gotta say, your room is awfully-”

“Boring?” Peepers prompted emotionlessly.  Lord Hater had told him the same thing, but Peepers took pride in his pristine bedroom.

“ _Sad,”_ Wander finished, looking at Peepers with pity.

The sight of Wander looking down on him should have enraged Peepers, but instead of shouting, he could only stutter. “N-no, it’s _efficient_.  I only have what I need!”

“But this should be a place that feels like _home!_ ”  Wander said, waving his arms in exasperation.  “And from the looks of it, this is the most dreary part of the ship!”

Peepers found no words to argue.  He had only ever thought of this room as a place to sleep, and never used it for anything else.  Why would he waste time here, when he had a whole ship to command?

“Tell you what,” Wander said with half a smile, “You let me gussy this place up, and I won’t go _any_ where else on the ship today."

“Really?” Peepers squinted.  It seemed like the best deal he was going to get--no more toting Wander around, and only one room to clean up afterwards.  He didn't know what Wander would do to his bedroom, but it couldn’t be worse than what he’d already done to the food court.

“Fine,” Peepers huffed.  He stepped outside, but just before closing the door, he stuck his head back in to add, “But no hearts!”

“Nooooo promises!” Wander answered in a singsong voice, already taking off his hat to take out--no, Peepers didn’t want to know.  He closed the door and forced himself to walk away, trying not to imagine how Wander was desecrating his only sanctuary.

Oh well, too late to stop it now.  Maybe cleaning the food court would take his mind off things.

 

Peepers returned to his room a few hours later and found a note taped to the door:

_Dear Mister Peepers,_ the loopy handwriting said, _Sylvia called me to say she found the map, and now we have to go to some faraway planet and might be gone a while.  Please tell Lord Hater I’m sorry that I won’t be there to celebrate our buddy-versary tomorrow, but not to worry, since I’ll throw him a surprise party as soon as I get back!_

_Hope you like your new room!_

_Love, Wander_

Peepers tore the note off the door.  The last thing he was going to do was tell Lord Hater that Wander would be stopping by to throw him a party, but he could at least be grateful that Wander wouldn’t be coming tomorrow.  One day of Wander had been bad enough.

Bracing himself for whatever rainbow-painted, fluffy-lovey monstrosity awaited behind his bedroom door, Peepers took a deep breath and stepped into his room.

 

Later that night, Lord Hater returned from his yearly bone-waxing.  After holding a watchdog rally to show off his newly-shined features, he went to his bedroom and sprawled onto his bed.  He had had an exhausting day of being pampered and needed a rest.

Hater laid there a few minutes before realizing that he hadn’t seen Peepers since he got back.  The typically vigilant commander hadn’t so much as said hello after his return, and Hater was fairly certain Peepers hadn’t been at the rally, either.  Now especially, when he was having trouble falling asleep, Hater missed Peepers’ presence.

Suspecting the worst, Hater dashed to Peepers’ bedroom.  His imagination churned out a thousand dreadful scenarios for Peepers to fall into: Peepers getting sick, Peepers quitting his job, Peepers--Grop forbid--getting _Wanderized._

Hater made it to Peepers' room, but the door opened before he had a chance to knock.

“Yes, Sir?” Peepers asked.  He had only opened his door a crack, just enough to see Hater through.

“Oh, good, you’re...uhm,” Hater coughed, “I, uh, I’m back…”

“So I see, Sir,” Peepers replied crisply, “is there anything I can do for you?”

Hater was taken aback.  There was clearly nothing wrong with Peepers, so why was he acting so strangely?  Peepers normally hung around him all the time, but now it felt like Peepers actually wanted him to  _leave_ _!_

“No, just…”  Embarrassment sent wayward green sparks buzzing around Hater’s horns. “Making...sure you’re getting enough sleep.”

“Yes, Sir, thank you,” Peepers nodded.  He glanced back at his room, then back to Hater.  “Well, good night, Sir!”

“Good--” the door to Peepers’ room closed in front of Hater before he could finish.  He scowled, but forced himself to walk away.  Maybe Peepers really _was_ sick...yeah, that was the only possibility.  He'd be back to normal in the morning

Peepers leaned against his closed door, listening for Lord Hater’s footsteps to recede.  With a sigh of relief, he slumped onto his new carpet, running his gloved hands through it luxuriously.

He hadn’t left his room all day, not even when Lord Hater had returned.  Even after all those hours, he couldn’t stop staring at it.  Pictures of Lord Hater--much more flattering ones than the one on his old poster--completely covered the walls.  Even the carpet had been embroidered with his leader’s face, surrounded by green lightning.  Wander had added other small touches to the room, like a lamp and a few comfortable chairs, all of them in shades of red and green and bearing the same skeletal face.

Peepers leaped onto his bed, which, of course, now had a Lord Hater quilt.  He reached for one of the many pillows Wander had placed on his bed, the only parts of the room that weren’t exclusively Hater-themed.

This was the one touch Peepers was sure Wander had made himself.  The likeness of Lord Hater (the same red blob from Wander's card) had been hand-sewed onto the pillow, alongside a smaller, rounder blob Peepers assumed was himself.

And much to Peepers' delight, Wander had ignored Peepers’ request for an absence of hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism is super appreciated!


End file.
